


I Couldn’t Sleep, So I Followed A Feeling

by Juvinadelgreko



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Queen Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juvinadelgreko/pseuds/Juvinadelgreko
Summary: Oliver, Mia, and William pass their first night together in the apartment.
Relationships: Oliver Queen & Mia Smoak, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, William Clayton & Mia Smoak, William Clayton & Oliver Queen
Comments: 8
Kudos: 186





	I Couldn’t Sleep, So I Followed A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> I felt deprived of a real conversation between Oliver and Mia. And I wanted a pinch more William, because I adore him.  
Title from the song “Wild Roses” by Of Monsters and Men, which I think perfectly sums up this fic.

  
  


11:00

Mia and William scraped the last crumbs of Monte Cristo sandwiches from their plates; William, with a contented expression of nostalgic satisfaction, Mia with the hesitant smile of someone becoming warm to something new. While they’d eaten, Oliver had busied himself setting up the two bedrooms for his children to spend the night before leaving for Russia the next morning. He’d put Mia in the master bedroom and William in his old room, opting to take the fold out couch for himself. He and Felicity had left necessities behind in the apartment, just in case they ever needed to return to the city. Their emergency stashes both in the apartment and the bunker had come in handy; Oliver found old pajamas and clothing of his and Felicity’s for William and Mia to wear rather than their grimy, bloodstained clothes from their trip through time. 

“Monte Cristos haven’t changed in twenty years. Thanks for the snack, Dad.” William said, sliding his and his sister’s empty plates across the counter to their father, who washed and dried them with practiced efficiency. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that actually was pretty good,” Mia added, “and don’t say—“

“I told you so,” William finished. Mia blushed and smiled sheepishly. Oliver smiled, his heart feeling fuller than it had since he’d been forced to leave his wife and their baby in a little cabin in Michigan. He’d made his family happy just then, which was more than he could say for most recent events. He looked at his children

“You two should get to bed. Early morning tomorrow.” Oliver, Curtis, and John had pulled some questionable strings to get them a private flight to Russia at sunrise the next morning; they couldn’t afford to lose a second of time. “I’ve put out pajamas and toiletries; just let me know if there’s anything else you need.” 

They thanked him, and headed into their rooms. 

12:00 a.m.

Oliver couldn’t sleep. Having both his children under the same roof as he for the first time ever had reignited something in him, something that had been quiet but not dormant since his departure from Bloomfield. 

When Mia had first been born, and when William had first come to live with him, Oliver hadn’t slept. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that his insomnia stemmed from new parental instincts, to protect, to nurture and defend. It had taken weeks for him to find sleep again after William’s move to Star City and Mia’s birth; his mind consumed with the safety of his children, the feeding of a baby notwithstanding.

Tonight, with both his kids back in his care, he has never felt more awake. His ears pick up every scuffle, every ruffle of sheets and cough and snore. His eyes flitted back and forth between the two doors; waiting for one of them to creak open, for a voice to call,  _ Dad?  _

If he thought too much about how much he’d missed out on being their parents, it’d break him. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to love and protect his family, and he’d been robbed of even that. 

Felicity’s voice echoed in his mind:  _ why does it always have to be you?  _

_ I don’t know, but I wish it didn’t.  _

For the first time, a part of him he resents the world that he’s been tasked with saving. 

He passed in and out of something like snoozing. 

12:30 a.m.

_ “Zoe! Zoe, look at me! You’re going to be okay; we’re going to take care of you…” _

_ Before Mia could watch Zoe take her last breath, she was torn from her best friend by a rough hand reeking of blood and steel and hurled over the nearby balcony, her body crashing through a glass and steel table. She gasped in pain as one of the shards lodged in her rib cage, desperately trying to scramble away from JJ’s hulking, armored form, his blade glinting in the glow of her worst nightmares.  _

_ “You foul bitch,” he spat, drawing his sword and preparing to finish the job he’d started on her neck. “This future is not for you.” Delirious with blood loss, Mia’s vision blurred, one JJ morphing in to two, then four, his armor becoming unrecognizable, his voice distorted.  _

_ Blackness. And then, _

_ “Blackstar, Blackstar, Blackstar…”  _

_ She saw red. Felt cold metal against her back. Tasted blood on her teeth...she raised her fist… _

_ “Blackstar, Blackstar…” the chants grew murkier and murkier. Her head felt light. _

_ “Blackstar...Black...star...Black…” _

“Mia!” 

“ _ Blackstar!” _

_ _ “MIA!” 

The ground was hard, and cold, and she was not alone. 

“Mia—“ The air shifted. 

She swung. 

Halfway on its way to his face, Oliver caught her fist. His daughter struggled against his hold, her eyes still clamped shut, still stuck in her nightmare. He called out to her again, praying she’d wake up before hurting one of them. 

“Mia, you’re safe. You’re here, with me, your Dad.” She stilled, her eyes blinking open through a glassy haze of panic.

“Where...where am I?” 

“Star City, Mia. You’re safe.” 

Hands still shaking, Mia pushed herself up against the bed frame and hiked her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Oliver recognized the pose as his own, as something he did when overwhelmed with fear and panic. 

“Did I...did I hurt you?” Her eyes were haunted, and Oliver noticed tears streaking down her cheeks just then. 

“No, hon.” Mia let out a shaky breath, appearing to relax fractionally at the notion. “Do you want to tell me about it?” Oliver doubted it, but tried anyway. 

“Not really.” Mia buried her face in her hands, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of the hoodie that had belonged to her mother. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“ _ Shh _ , you never have to apologize for this. Besides, you can’t wake up someone who’s not asleep,” Oliver said in a weak attempt to diffuse the tension and fear flooding the room. 

“Nightmares get you too?” 

“Not tonight.” Oliver smiled like weak winter sunshine. “I just had a lot on my mind.” 

“Like what?” 

“Dad things.” Mia cocked her head to the side in annoyance at his vagueness, but didn’t push him.  _ Not tonight.  _

“Do you have them, too? The nightmares?” Mia asked him, her voice thin and timid, searching for understanding the same way he had when he’d come home from Lian Yu. Except Mia wasn’t reaching into a void. 

“All the time.” 

“Do they ever stop?” 

He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. 

“No. But it gets easier.” 

“How?”

His heart clenched, thoughts of Felicity invading his mind. Her arms around him in the darkest hours of the night when his demons wouldn’t quiet down. Her voice in his ear and her eyes locked on his. 

“Felicity helped. Among other things.” Mia listened intently. “Meditation. Journaling. Therapy.” 

“Therapy?” 

“Yup. It gave me a much clearer view of my life than the one I’d forced on myself.” 

“Sometimes it feels wrong. Carrying on fighting when I’ve lost so many. How can it be the right thing to do when so many have suffered?” 

_ You honor the dead by fighting. And you are not done fighting.  _

“You honor the dead by fighting. And as your father it...it kills me to say this, but  _ you are not done fighting. _ And neither am I. Neither is William. We’re family, and we fight for each other. As long as one of us is in, we’re all in.”

“Yeah, well, that’s great Dad, until someone dies!” 

“You’re right. We just have to do what we feel is right in our hearts and have faith that some day, we’ll win.” 

“It doesn’t feel that way. Not to knock your well-adjustedness and all, but it all seems pretty bleak to me.” 

“It is. I’m not going to sugar coat things for you, Mia.” She disliked beating around the bush even more than her mother. “But unless you believe that things can get better, that you can make them better, they won’t change. I know it’s tempting, but don’t let your demons win, hon.” 

“It’s so hard to fight them off…” her eyes were shiny again. 

“I know hon. Believe me, I know.” Oliver moved to sit next to his daughter, and for the first time, she let him. Oliver couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or fear, or sheer loneliness, but Mia let her head drop to his shoulder, the crystalline drops of her tears resting on the collar of his sweater. Feeling his foot begin to fall asleep, Oliver began to shift his weight. A lighting fast hand latched on to his shoulder. 

“Don’t go.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

When sleep comes for Mia later that night, Oliver lifts her into his arms with the same care he had cradled a much younger version of her with and places her gently back into bed, crawling in adjacent to her, keeping watch over his baby girl. 

1:30 a.m

William woke peacefully into the muffled dark of the apartment. For a moment, confusion swamped his brain. He didn’t hear the hum and whir of the bunker lights, didn’t feel the perpetual chill of underground air. He felt…at home.

_ I am home. _

He was home. His father and sister were asleep across the hall. His stepmother was safe. Painfully far away, but safe. 

Speaking of…

William reached under his bed. Unless Oliver and Felicity had upturned his room when he’d left, they wouldn’t have found it. 

His old computer. He’d left it behind upon departure, knowing that his school in Central City would issue him a new one. He blew the dust off the old model and plugged in its now-antiquated charger, waiting for it to boot up. 

The old monitor whirred to life, all his old programs springing back in to view.

He knew he it was unwise to call Felicity, to directly inform her of his and Mia’s whereabouts. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t communicate with her. 

He sent her a simple message.

_ We’re safe.  _

He thought back to his and Oliver’s conversation. When he’d learned of his father’s death in the news in early 2020, he’d been wrecked. His grandparents hadn’t let him attend the funeral, or even truly grieve for his father. 

_ You were never his son. He was never your father.  _

Coming out to his father earlier that night had filled in one of the deepest holes in his soul. 

In his years with his grandparents, kind and loving as they were, he’d missed Oliver’s even keel, his compassion. He’d missed being able to talk about _ anything  _ with him and Felicity. He missed them when he’d graduated from high school and college with honors, when he’d had his first kiss, his first love. 

He’d turn to tell them something, and they’d be gone. 

And then, the Monitor had brought them back, given him a second chance. So he’d thrown himself into his father’s arms, leapt on the chance to talk to him, to this man he had missed so much. 

_ I’m gay.  _ The brief moment of silence that had followed those words and preceded his father’s response might have been the heaviest one he’s experienced. He just got his father back, was he about to lose him again?

_ Yeah, buddy, I know. Felicity and I, we knew.  _

_ You knew?  _ How? Had he really been that obvious? Or was it just that hard to keep secrets from Overwatch and Green Arrow? He supposed it didn’t matter. It was out now. 

The whole time travel scenario, colossal mindfuck as it was, had brought him peace. Being with his father again, with his sister, was a gift. And he was prepared to follow them anywhere. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: JuvinaDelGreko


End file.
